


634 Years, 5 Months, and 7 Days

by Penthesilea1623



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Discussions of Masturbation, F/M, First Meetings, Mia Ryder just wants to get laid, SAM is concerned as well, Sexual Frustration, it's been a long time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 00:32:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11324943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penthesilea1623/pseuds/Penthesilea1623
Summary: Mia Ryder realizes it's been a long time since she's had sex, and by the time the Tempest lands on Kadara she's ready for that to change.





	634 Years, 5 Months, and 7 Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blacksheep33512](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacksheep33512/gifts).



_His hands seemed to be everywhere all at once, but it only left her wanting more. No, not wanting needing more, the way she needed oxygen, or food as if her very survival depended on it. Her skin felt like it was on fire, every inch of her was throbbing._

_“Please.” She begged._

_“Please what?” His voice was low, barely more than a whisper, teasing, taunting._

_She reached out blindly for his hand pulling it between her legs. “Please,” she repeated._

_He left his hand where she had placed it and slowly his fingers began to move, sliding easily, caressing her with featherlight touches, everywhere but where she wanted them most. She slid her own hand down, her fingers tangling with his, showing him where to touch, raising her hips and arching into his hand, increasing the pressure. Her breath began to come more quickly and she could feel the tension build, moving her closer, inexorably nearer to that moment when..._

_Yes._

“Pathfinder.” 

_No._

_Please, no._

“Pathfinder, you have an incoming call from Evfra de Tershaav."

Mia Ryder opened her eyes and staring up at the ceiling above her. For a brief moment she didn’t know where she was. She blinked slowly, willing herself fully awake. 

Her quarters on the Tempest. Of course. 

And alone. Of course.

Her heart was still pounding, her cheeks were flushed, and, she realized, her hand was still inside her panties, still touching herself. 

Fuck. She’d been so close. Just a few more seconds with that dream lover and she would have…

“Shall I put the call through, Pathfinder?” SAM asked. 

He sounded almost apologetic, as if he knew what he’d interrupted, and she wondered, not for the first time, just how connected SAM was to her: did he know what she was thinking? Could he see what she dreamed? Obviously, he monitored her physical responses, but did he realize what it meant when that response happened when she was asleep? Had his programming covered wet dreams?

She couldn’t help a small smirk at the thought. 

SAM’s voice came again, just as calm, and just as persistent. “Pathfinder?” 

Reluctantly she pulled her hand out from under the covers. “Put it through, SAM.”

As was his habit, Evfra didn’t waste words, not even on a hello. “There’s been a development regarding the spy, Vehn Terev.” He growled out. “Rendezvous at Kralla’s Song. Your contact's name is Shena.”

Say what you would about the man’s people skills, Jesus Christ, did he have a sexy voice. 

She refused to believe she’d even thought that.

“Pathfinder.” SAM prompted, on their private channel this time, and she realized Evfra was waiting for a response from her.

“Shena.” She repeated. “Got it.” 

Evfra disconnected the call before she could add anything more.

“How long until we reach Kadara Port, SAM?” 

“Approximately 34 minutes, Pathfinder.”

Plenty of time to shower, dress, and grab some coffee, and... “Thanks, SAM. That’s all.” 

And, as aroused as she still was by that dream, plenty of time to finish what it had started, she thought, wriggling out of her panties, and sliding her hands between her thighs.

She came with almost embarrassing quickness, and still it wasn’t enough. She rolled over, burying her face in her pillow, using it to muffle her groan of frustration.

She really needed to get laid.

Twenty minutes later she was showered, dressed, and pouring herself some coffee in the ship’s kitchen. Jaal and Liam were there as well, already indulging in their usual morning banter, but they, like the rest of the crew, knew better than to approach her before she’d had her morning coffee. She leaned back against the counter and took a sip, and almost immediately the world seemed more tolerable. She wondered idly how much coffee the Initiative had brought along, and what she was going to do when it ran out.

All the more reason to get the vaults working again. 

SAM’s voice came over their private channel, interrupting her thoughts. 

She still hadn’t gotten used to that – that someone could speak inside her head. 

“Pathfinder, may I ask you a question?”

“Mmm.” She murmured. Because if there was anything stranger than a voice talking inside your head, it was seeing other people’s expressions when you had what appeared to be a one-sided a conversation with that voice. 

“You’ve said before that I could ask you questions in order to gain a better understanding of human behavior.”

Oh boy. She glanced over at Liam and Jaal. Normally she didn’t mind answering SAM’s questions, but she didn’t particularly want to share those answers with the whole crew. However, Liam and Jaal seemed engrossed in their own conversation, so why not. 

“Sure, SAM.” She said. “What do you want to know?” She raised her cup to take another swallow.

“I’ve noticed that there has been a significant increase in the frequency of your masturbation in the last several weeks. I was wondering if the factors behind this were purely physical or if there were an emotional component to it as well.”

Coffee sprayed out of Mia’s mouth, and spilled out of her cup as well, drenching most of the front of her shirt.

“Shit!” She put the coffee cup on the counter, grabbing a nearby towel and blotting at her shirt. She bent down to mop up what had landed on the floor.

“You okay there, Ryder?” Liam crouched down next to her, handing her more towels. 

She felt her face turn red, and she never blushed. “Yeah. Coffee too hot.” She looked down at her shirt. “I’d better go change.” She said and quickly left the room, ducking into her quarters, never quite as grateful that she had her own quarters.

“I’m sorry, Mia. My question upset you.” SAM said.

Was she upset? No. “I’m not upset SAM. You just surprised me.” How to explain this to an AI. “Masturbation isn’t generally talked about so casually.” 

“I understand that, Pathfinder. However, you had…”

She cut him off. “I told you you could ask me questions. I know.” She thought back to his question. “No, I suppose it isn’t purely physical. Mostly physical, but not purely.”

“Are you lonely, Mia?” 

This was beginning to feel like a therapy session, or one of Lexi’s interrogations. “No. Maybe a bit. Truthfully SAM, I miss sex. It’s been a while.” This wasn’t a conversation she could have standing still and she pulled open a drawer, looking for a clean shirt. 

“Six hundred thirty-four years, five months and seven days, to be precise.” SAM informed her.

Mia straightened up. “What did you say?” 

“It has been six hundred thirty-four years, five months and seven days since you last had intercourse.”

“That can’t be right.” But if SAM said it, she knew it was. How was it possible she hadn’t counted her time in stasis?

“It was the night before the Initiative’s departure from the Citadel. The marine that you met in Chora’s Den on the Citadel, James…”

“I remember.” She said interrupting. And she did. He would have been hard to forget, well over six feet, built like a tank, just enough tattoos to look dangerous but not sleazy, and with the sexiest habit of throwing out Spanish phrases in the throes of passion. She’d almost missed the shuttle out to the arks the next morning and she’d been sore and throbbing in all sorts of unexpected places. She’d thought for sure Dad was going to the chew her out for it, but he’d just sighed and shaken his head as she’d scurried past him. 

The sex had been so worth it. She thought wistfully.

“So, the masturbation is to compensate for the lack of sexual intercourse. And the longer you go without intercourse the more you feel the need to masturbate.”

She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation. “That’s about it SAM.” She slammed the drawer shut and opened another. How was it possible that she had no clean shirts? 

“There are several of your fellow crew members who would be more than happy to have sex with you.” 

She couldn’t help laughing. “Don’t think I haven’t considered that.” 

She ran through the list in her head.

Liam – she’d thought he was a possibility right up until he pulled that crap with Verand and the pirates, jeopardizing both their lives and their already shaky alliance with the Angara. She wasn’t mad at him, but the fact she’d had to clean up his mess had changed the footing of the relationship, and she just couldn’t see him going for a casual fling.

Jaal – interesting, but too emotional. Not that there was anything wrong with that, it just wasn’t a Ryder trait. Plus, there was that whole alien thing. Did that make her a bigot? Possibly some people would see it that way, but truth was aliens just didn’t do it for her.

PeeBee – also alien, though less so, and also female, at least in appearance, and she preferred males. Particularly after 634 years. She wanted someone inside her pounding away – not a dildo, not a vibrator, but warm hard flesh.

She realized her heart was racing again, just from the thought of it.

She really needed to get laid. And there were no clean shirts in this drawer either. She shoved it closed.

“If not on the ship, perhaps someone on the Nexus, or one of the settlements?” 

She couldn’t help laughing. “You going to be my wingman, SAM?”

There was the briefest of pauses before SAM responded. “By the word ‘wingman’ you mean someone who assists you in procuring a desirable sexual partner while in a social setting, not as it applies to aviation.”

“You got it.” The drawer hadn’t closed properly and she pulled it open, reaching to the back. Her fingers touched fabric and she pulled it out triumphantly, only to realize it was her Blasto tank top.

Shit. She couldn’t go to Kadara wearing a Blasto shirt. Maybe she could borrow one from Cora? She immediately dismissed the idea. That would just be another admission that she didn’t have a clue of what she was doing as Pathfinder. 

“It’s my job to monitor and ensure that the Pathfinder is functioning at the most optimal level, physically and mentally. This appears to include your sexual satisfaction, Pathfinder. I would be more than happy to be your Wingman, if that is what’s required.” 

She shook her head, still smiling. “Thanks SAM. I’ll let you know.” 

She spied her footlocker across the room, that footlocker of personal items that each member of the Initiative had been allowed to bring along. Had she put anything in there that she could wear?Something a little more Pathfinder-like, for want of a better word? 

After rifling through it she sat back on her heels, holding her favorite leather jacket in her hands. She’d forgotten she’d thrown it in there. Huh. Maybe…

She walked onto the bridge as they broke through Kadara’s atmosphere. 

Cora looked at her and did a double take. “You aren’t wearing a uniform?” She sounded borderline scandalized in a way that almost made Mia glad she’d spilled her coffee on her shirt.

“I thought I’d try and get the lay of the land before the whole place knows the Pathfinder is there.” She lied. Besides she liked the outfit she’d pulled together: black pants, black boots, her black and red leather jacket with a dark grey scarf that she’d also forgotten she’d packed wound around her neck and tucked inside the jacket. 

The Blasto shirt was completely hidden from view. She pulled on the gloves she’d found. “Drack, Vetra, you’re with me.” 

As it turned out Drack and Vetra abandoned her almost immediately. 

“Do I even want to know?” Mia called out after them.

“No.” They said in unison, not even bothering to look back.

She stood by herself at the railing, overlooking Kadara Port. Her mind went back to what SAM had said about finding someone at the NEXUS or one of their outposts.

Harry? Handsome, gruff, affectionate, probably a fantastic lover, but he’d been friends with her dad and until she’d turned eighteen he’d been “Uncle Harry”. The ick factor was too high.

That doctor on Eos? Ramirez? Probably not, since she couldn’t even remember his first name. She wondered if he’d speak Spanish in the throes of passion, and that thought almost had her considering going back to Eos once she was done on Kadara, but he seemed like he was looking for something serious, looking to settle down and in all likelihood start a family, and she so was not. 

Bain Massani had been a possibility until he wouldn’t stop with the ‘Little Duck’ nickname. Plus, he’d set up in an old Kett camp and she honestly didn’t think she could have sex in a Kett facility, not without consuming a hell of a lot of alcohol.

She sighed in frustration.

SAM’s voice came over their private channel. “Perhaps someone in Kadara Port?” 

How had he known? She decided she didn’t want to think too closely about that. “Yeah not sure Tan would approve of intimate Exile/Pathfinder relations.”

“As we know many of the Exiles regret their actions and would like to return to the Initiative.”

She gave a small snort of laughter. “Maybe they’re not all bad, you mean? They’re pirates and outlaws and smugglers, SAM. They rebelled against the Nexus…” Her voice trailed off.

 _Han Solo_ , she suddenly thought. He’d been a pirate and a smuggler and eventually a rebel. 

He’d also been her first crush ever.

Luke and Obi-Wan had found him in a run-down spaceport, ‘a wretched hive of scum and villainy’, and if that didn’t describe Kadara Port perfectly, she didn’t know what did.

Maybe SAM was onto something.

It only took twenty minutes on Kadara for her to decide that thought had been a pipe dream. She hadn’t seen anybody she would even remotely consider sleeping with and she hadn’t seen anything that made her disagree with Tan’s assessment of the Exiles. It had taken SAM’s voice in her head to keep her from getting into an altercation with Sloane Kelly’s Outlaws when she found them beating up those Angara outside of Kralla’s Song. It was quite a racket Sloane Kelly had going on here.

Her fists were still clenched when she stepped into the bar. She’d meet up with that Angaran, Shana, or whatever she was called, find Vehn Terev, and get him and herself out of Kadara as soon as she possibly could. 

The music which had been only just audible outside was going full blast in here, the bass of it reverberating through her chest. It was a familiar sound, comforting and strangely relaxing. How many crap bars had she and Scott found on the Citadel, bars just sleazy enough that they didn’t ask two obviously underage kids for ID? 

By the time she'd gone down the stairs to the bar a smile was playing at the corners of her mouth. Scott would love this place. She watched as a Krogan customer tried to skip out without paying and the Asari bartender slammed a blade into the bar. Mia couldn’t help noticing it had several other knife marks in it already. The Krogan paid without another word. 

Oh, yeah. She was bringing Scott here the minute he regained consciousness. 

The Asari glared at her, probably thinking the smile was at her expense, and not wanting to cause trouble, Mia turned away, leaning one elbow on the bar and looking around the place. 

Her eyes stopped when she reached the stairs, and she was suddenly breathless. There was a man walking towards her, not rushing in any way, but completely focused on her. She’d been in enough bars to recognize that determination and what it meant.

She hadn’t realized she missed being hit on in a bar quite so much. 

He was human, handsome, dark-haired and olive skinned, cleaner and better dressed than most of the residents of Kadara – at least than those she’d run across so far. Not too tall, but she didn’t mind that. Fit but not overly muscled, and there was a slight swagger to his walk that she just loved. 

She’d have bet Vetra her last chocolate bar that he was a smuggler. Kadara’s answer to Han Solo, she thought, remembering her conversation with SAM this morning.

When he was just a few steps from her, she turned away and faced the bar once more.

Wouldn’t want to make it too easy for him after all.

He didn’t even seem to notice, just walked up beside her, tapping twice on the bar. The Asari bartender who’d been so tough all but fell over herself getting him drinks. 

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.” He said without looking at her.

She’d never fully understood the phrase ‘weak at the knees’, not until right now. His voice was warm and rich, a caress of a voice, and he spoke with a heavy Spanish accent, the words rolling off his tongue. 

_Holy shit._

The bartender put the two drinks on the bar and scurried away and the man picked them up offering her one. His dark eyes swept over her, not bothering to hide the fact he was looking, or his admiration at what he saw. 

She arched an eyebrow, and tilted her head pretending to consider the offer. “I’ve got time for a drink.” She said grudgingly. She did, actually. She’d arrived a good quarter of an hour before the arranged meeting time.

He handed her one without a word, tapping his glass against hers before raising it to his mouth. They watched each other over the rim of the glasses as they drank. 

She put hers down on the bar and ran her tongue over her upper lip, as if catching a stray drop, and saw a flare of heat in his eyes. It sent an unexpected rush of warmth between her legs.

_Jesus Christ._

Her mind was racing, trying to figure out how to keep him here until after her meeting with Shena, or how to arrange to meet him later, how to figure out if meeting him later was smart or safe or if he might be one of Sloane Kelly’s people, wondering, if that were the case, if it really mattered, or if she really cared. She wanted him, and the way she saw it, after six hundred and thirty-four years (and some change) she deserved to have him. 

He put his drink down on the bar. “Shena.” He told her. “But you can call me Reyes. I hate code names.”

_Fuck._

She felt her cheeks grow hot, and for a moment she could only stare, hoping she didn’t look as humiliated and horrified as she felt. 

“I was expecting someone more … Angaran.” She managed to say.

He laughed and his laugh was as sexy as the rest of him. “The Resistance pays me to supply information…as well as other things.” He gave her an unrepentant grin.

She’d been right. “So, you’re a smuggler.” Her voice sounded far too breathy, and she forced herself to concentrate on what he was saying her about Vehn Terev and how he’d been arrested by Sloane Kelly. She followed him over to the open window, away from the bar, making what she hoped were appropriate responses to his information, all the time wondering if he would report the encounter to Evfra (and she could already hear the snort of disgust Evfra would give when he heard, all the way from Kadara). 

“You work for the Initiative.” Reyes was saying. “Sloane was part of the uprising on the Nexus. I doubt she’ll give him up easily.”

That got her attention. She needed Vehn Terev if she was going to find the Archon’s ship and Meridian. “I’m taking him. With or without her permission.”

The sudden vehemence of her statement seemed to take him by surprise, and to please him. “Oh, we’re going to be friends, you and I.” He didn’t so much speak the words as purr them and it was all she could do not to nod in agreement.

He stepped closer to her, close enough that his shoulder brushed against hers, and even that small touch made her heart start to race. “There might be another way to get Vehn. You work Sloane. I’ll talk to the Resistance.”

And he turned and walked away without another word.

_No._

“How do I get in touch with you?” Mia called after him.

He turned and looked at her.

“If things go south….” She added, hoping it sounded like a legitimate Resistance-related concern.

He paused, not saying anything, and then he winked and kept walking.

She frowned trying to figure out what that wink meant and then started for the door herself. It seemed to mean he was interested in her, which was good, or at least aware that she was interested in him, which could be good, or could be not so good. At least that wink and the rest of their conversation meant that she would see him again.

Didn’t it? 

The Asari leaned over the bar as she passed by. “Hey! You gotta pay!” 

For a moment it didn't make sense and then she realized Reyes had stuck her with the bill. That little…

She pulled up her omni-tool. “Keep the change.” She told the Asari, and continued out. 

He’d stuck her with the bill. Winked at her, and walked off without paying for the drink that he’d offered her. No one had ever made her pay for her own drink, and his, she realized. 

The scoundrel. 

She was smiling by the time she got to the stairs and giggling by the time she reached the top, ignoring the looks the bar’s patrons were giving her, and stepping out into the sulfur-scented air of Kadara Port, she had a spring in her step.

SAM’s voice spoke in her ear. “You seem pleased, Mia. Do you believe Reyes has the potential to be a satisfactory sexual partner?” 

Mia thought of the wink, and the voice, the gleam in his eye when he smiled at her, and the undeniable cheekiness of the man. She thought of seeing him again, and her pulse sped up. “Do you know, SAM, I think he just might.”


End file.
